


Litha

by crimsonherbarium



Series: Wheel of the Year [4]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Campfires, Gay Sex, Litha, M/M, Marriage, Midsummer, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Pagan Festivals, Porn with Feelings, Same-Sex Marriage, Shameless Smut, Wedding Night, Wedding Rings, Weddings, Wheel of the Year, bottom lambert, i let them be happy for once are you proud of me, no beta we die like men, something sweet and smutty for pride month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-14 22:50:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19282804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonherbarium/pseuds/crimsonherbarium
Summary: Lambert and Aiden attend a midsummer festival in a village after completing a contact, and the celebration opens Lambert's eyes to options he didn't know he had.





	Litha

Swirls of white skirts. Locks of hair like spun gold, lifted by the breeze. Wreaths of yellow flowers atop the heads of the dancing maidens as they laughed and spun and sang, radiant in the midsummer sun.

Litha. The bottom of the wheel.

Lambert leaned back against the tree whose shade he’d taken refuge under and allowed himself the smallest of smiles. He and Aiden hadn’t exactly been invited to share in the village’s celebration of the equinox, but they hadn’t been chased off with pitchforks either. Today, he was content to accept that as a glowing endorsement and simply _be present_ , steeping himself in the low hum of ambient magic and the joy of the villagers as they celebrated.

The mead flowed like water as the sun beat down from on high. Aiden sauntered back into the cover of the oak’s sweeping branches with two mugs in hand and leaned against the trunk beside Lambert.

“Lovely, aren’t they?” Aiden’s golden eyes followed the leaps and twirls of the girls dancing the dragaica. They were dressed as brides, bedecked in virginal white, their skin scrubbed clean of the garden earth that doubtless stained it every other day of the year. One stood in the center, the place of honor, whilst the other girls spun and swirled around her.

Lambert begrudged him a nod, taking the offered mug and drinking deeply. The honeyed sweetness of the mead washed over his tongue, and he sighed.

“Most of them will be married already come Lammas.” Aiden took a draught from his own mug. “It must be nice.”

Lambert raised an eyebrow at him. “Being married?”

“This life.” Aiden gestured at the dancing maidens and the eager young lads who were watching them. “How simple. Most of their lives are spent in service of birth, death, and the harvest. Today they’ve naught to worry about but love.”

“Yet another thing they stole from us,” Lambert remarked bitterly.

Aiden watched the girls thoughtfully. “Stolen? No.”

Lambert shot him a sidelong glance. “The mutations—”

“You may father no children, that is true.” Aiden shrugged. “Neither can I, nor any other witcher who’s ever survived the Trials of the Grasses. That doesn’t mean you can’t marry.”

Lambert blinked. The thought had never occurred to him. He’d written off these things, all of them, as lost to him the very moment he’d woken up with golden eyes instead of brown ones and a bitterness in his heart. But that wasn’t entirely true. Aiden was right—the limitations of his body had no bearing on how he lived his life. He could leave the Path if he really wanted to, settle down on a homestead somewhere far from monster nests and the horrors of war, though he knew he’d be bored with it inside a month. True, he’d never be able to live the life he’d been born to live—and he wasn’t entirely certain anymore that that was a bad thing—but he could have a modicum of it, if he wanted. They both could.

“Is that something you want?” Lambert asked, not having missed the wistful smile on Aiden’s face as he watched the maidens dance.

“I’ve thought about it,” he admitted. “Many times.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

Aiden shot him an incredulous look. “A damned fool who never says exactly what he’s thinking.”

Lambert rolled his eyes. “Fuck off.”

“You think I’m joking?” Aiden set his mug aside on a stump and dug in his pockets, pulling out a small leather pouch. “Here.”

Lambert took the pouch and shook out its contents into his palm. Out of it fell two silver rings. They were simple, with no adornments, but were polished to a mirror-like surface that burned his eyes with reflected sunlight. He squeezed them in his fist and turned to face Aiden.

“Is this you asking?”

“Is this you saying yes?”

“Whoreson,” Lambert muttered under his breath and seized Aiden, pulling him in for a kiss, not caring if anyone saw. “Yeah,” he said when they broke apart. “This is me saying yes.”

~~~~~~

The sun was low in its descent toward the horizon, painting the world with liquid gold, as the two of them stood facing each other in the clearing. This Place of Power seemed as good a spot as any—Lambert didn’t keep the old gods anymore, and even if he gave a shit about the Eternal Fire the priests would have them burnt in an instant for the simple crime of loving one another. It was just the two of them, at the closing of the day, as the magic of the equinox thrummed through them and the gentle summer breeze whispered through the canopy of leaves overhead.

Lambert took a deep breath and sighed it out. His gods-damned hands were shaking—he’d never been the nervous type, but now that he was standing here his heart wouldn’t stop pounding in his chest. This was something he couldn’t run away from. There was a not insignificant part of him that would rather face down Old Speartip again than to let down his walls. To let himself be vulnerable.

Aiden reached out and took his hand, and the shaking stopped. Relief washed over Lambert like a wave.

“It’s alright,” he said softly. “If this is too much, we don’t have to. It doesn’t have to be today. It doesn’t have to be at all.”

Lambert shook his head. “No. I’m ready.”

Aiden pulled a length of yellow ribbon from his pocket.

“Traded one of the girls some herbs for it,” he said in reply to Lambert’s questioning look.

He wound it round their two clasped hands clumsily, trying with difficulty to bind them together one-handed. Lambert reached out with his free hand to help, holding the loose end of the ribbon while Aiden wove the knot and pulled it tight. The satin was cool and smooth against his skin, the pressure of the bond snug but reassuring rather than uncomfortable.

When it was done, Aiden reached out and cupped Lambert’s face. His tender smile as he looked into Lambert’s eyes was enough to make him weak at the knees. He felt so exposed, so vulnerable, like a raw nerve under his gentle touch. His instinct was to look away, to mitigate some of the tension that connected them like a bolt of energy, but found he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. He was here in this moment, under the sweet light of the fading sun, alone with the man he loved. Nothing else existed but the two of them and the whisper of the breeze through the wreaths of yellow flowers that sat atop their heads.

“I take you my heart,” Aiden murmured, his voice like honey in the summer air. “At the rising of the moon and the setting of the stars. To love and to honor, through all that may come.”

Aiden’s eyes were wet. He blinked and a single tear traced its way down his cheek—not one of sorrow, as the many others the two of them had shed over the years, but one of joy. Lambert’s own eyes stung. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

“Through all our lives together,” Aiden continued, “in all our lives, may we be reborn. That we may meet and know, and love again, and remember.”

The last word was naught but a whisper. Aiden was fighting to hold himself together. It was plain to see in the lines of his face, in the slightest tremor of his hand as he reached into his pocket to pull out a silver ring and Lambert did the same. Aiden slid his band onto the third finger of Lambert’s bound hand, and Lambert did the same with Aiden’s. The metal was warm and butter-smooth against his skin. It felt strange, but not wrong.

“I love you,” Lambert managed to croak out, the timbre of his voice betraying the depths of his emotions.

Aiden smiled, another tear tracing a path down his face. “I love you too.”

~~~~~~

Lambert was surprised by how much things felt…the same, as the two of them set up camp that night and ate the stew he’d cooked huddled together by the fire. The ring on his finger was an unfamiliar weight. He found himself rubbing it with his thumb when his hands weren’t otherwise occupied, as if to make sure it was still there.

The hum of magic had yet to stop, even now that the sun had long set. Lambert could feel it in his bones and in his medallion, vibrating in harmony with the Place of Power he could still see in the distance from their campsite.

The warmth of the day had faded quickly. Lambert shivered as the chill night wind blew through the clearing, making their fire sputter and give off sparks in protest.

“Come here,” Aiden murmured from where he was sprawled out on his bedroll, holding out an arm. “I’ll keep you warm.”

Lambert sank down on top of him, letting out a hum of contentment at the warm, solid presence of Aiden’s body under his own. Aiden’s arms wrapped snugly around his waist, and he sighed.

Aiden’s mouth found his in the near-darkness, warm and sweet and insistent. Lambert melted into the kiss, still only half-certain this was real, that it wasn’t some fevered dream he’d fallen into after being poisoned by an archespore on their last contract and would wake from in an instant, cold and shaking and alone.

One of Aiden’s hands moved up to tangle in his hair, and he thought to himself that, if this was indeed a dream, he didn’t want to wake up. Let him sink ever deeper, into Aiden’s arms, into reassuring warmth and comfort that he’d never known in all his decades of walking the Path.

Aiden rolled over so that he was on top, pinning Lambert down with the weight of his body. His hands found Lambert’s, their fingers interlacing. Their rings glinted subtly in the firelight. Lambert smiled to himself, loving Aiden’s mark on him. He bit Aiden’s lip and got a low moan in return.

“Coming undone so easily?” Lambert teased, feeling Aiden’s cock stiffening against his thigh through his trousers.

“The things you do to me,” Aiden growled, grinding down against him.

“Oh yeah?” Lambert grinned. “Show me.”

The two of them rolled over each other in the darkness, skin pricked by cool blades of soft grass and the roughness of the cotton bedroll as they shed their clothing piece by piece. The warmth and simple _intimacy_ of Aiden’s skin against his own was enough to make Lambert groan with need as his own cock throbbed against his thigh. He could smell smoke from the village on the breeze, mingling with the scent of fresh hay and sweet summer flowers. Aiden tasted sweeter, like whiskey and clover honey, as he sank down on top of Lambert and kissed him deeply.

Perhaps it was simply that Aiden knew him too well. Perhaps it was the way Lambert had allowed himself to be so _vulnerable_ with him, in a way he had with no one else before. It should have terrified him. In point of fact it did, but not in a way that made him want to run. In a way that made him afraid of losing him.

He kissed Aiden like it was the last thing he was ever going to do. He wrapped his arms around him tightly and buried his face in Aiden’s scarred neck, taking in that ubiquitous juniper scent of him as he sucked at the tender flesh there and hummed in pleasure at the sounds Aiden made in response. His. His and no one else’s. There wasn’t a man or god alive that could take that away from him.

He gasped in response to the caress of Aiden’s hand on the crest of his hip, on the delicate flesh of his inner thigh, on the curve of his ass. The other man growled and pulled him closer, tangling their bodies beyond any hope of separation. Aiden’s cock was hot against his skin. Lambert’s own throbbed with need, already anticipating the feeling of Aiden inside of him. He broke away, casting his gaze about for the bottle, and spotted it within arms’ reach. Lambert snatched it and pressed it into Aiden’s hands.

Aiden groaned and bit his lip as he stroked himself with the oil. Lambert lay back, enjoying the view. The appealing shade of red Aiden always flushed when they fucked. The rapturous expression on his face. The way his lips parted ever so slightly and his breath came in short gasps. The curves of his muscles. The irregular lines of his scars. The full length of his cock, straining and beaded with precum at the tip. How the hell had he gotten so lucky?

Aiden grabbed him by the hips and pulled him closer, taking himself in hand and lining his cock up with Lambert’s body. Lambert couldn’t suppress a groan as he slowly pushed his way inside, the sensation of him momentarily overwhelming, feeling heat leap to his face all at once. Aiden paused when he was fully sheathed, breathing hard, raising a hand to cup Lambert’s jaw and pull him in for a deep kiss.

When he began to move he was slow, gentle. His body was warm and solid on top of Lambert’s, the rocking of his hips tender and steady. Lambert wrapped his arms around him and relaxed, letting himself enjoy being fucked by the man he loved. Enjoy the way his cock filled him up and the short hot bursts of his breath in Lambert’s ear. Enjoy the slight friction of Aiden’s stomach against his cock where it was trapped between their two bodies.

It was love, Lambert realized in the midst of things, love that made fucking Aiden so different from fucking a Passiflora whore or a mage or even a succubus. The connection between the two of them heightened the sensations, made everything brighter and more intense. The energy that thrummed through both of them had to do with more than just the equinox. It was a bond, a covenant, a knowledge that each of their souls had found a home in the other.

Aiden’s thrusts were anything but gentle now. He’d built up speed and force as time went on, feeding off the reciprocating rock of Lambert’s hips and his hand that had wandered down to grab his ass. His breath came hard, their gasps and grunts and moans mingling in the night air. Lambert’s chest and thighs were damp with sweat—his or Aiden’s, he didn’t know and didn’t care.

Aiden let out a cry, and Lambert growled in response. 

“Look at me,” he commanded, grabbing Aiden’s face and pulling him close so he could see into his golden eyes. Aiden’s pupils were blown so wide they looked almost round. The difference it made to his appearance was almost startling. Lambert was sure his own matched perfectly.

The other man’s breath came in ragged gasps, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic. Lambert could feel his thighs trembling with the effort.

“It’s alright,” he murmured. “Come for me.”

Aiden needed no further invitation, his thrusts speeding up, his cock buried to the hilt in Lambert, his fingernails biting into the meat of Lambert’s shoulder. He cried out, shuddering as he came, collapsing against Lambert and fighting to regain control of his breath. Lambert held him tight, smoothing his hands over Aiden’s curls, his back, his shoulders.

Lambert groaned when Aiden pulled out, and his neglected cock twitched in protest. He wasn’t left waiting long—Aiden hooked his arms under Lambert’s knees and pulled him close, taking Lambert’s cock in hand and swallowing him to the root.

“Fuck,” Lambert gasped, covering his face with one hand. It was too good. Aiden’s tongue massaging his cock, the warm slickness of his mouth, his face still flushed with sex and cheeks hollowed appealingly as he pulled back and swallowed Lambert once more.

Two of Aiden’s fingers circled the ring of Lambert’s ass and pushed inside.

“Yes,” he gasped, unable to keep from rutting upward into Aiden’s mouth. His hands tangled in Aiden’s damp curls, holding onto him for leverage. It was too good, the delicious feel of him, the swirl of his tongue over Lambert’s cock. Lambert held onto him tightly, growling somewhere deep in his throat, fucking his mouth as Aiden moaned into him, messy and flushed and irresistible.

Lambert couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t slow his thrusts, couldn’t keep the ravenous wolf inside him in check any longer. Heat pooled in his groin, tension making his legs shake and breath come in labored grunts as every second brought him closer to the brink. Aiden swallowed him and he tumbled over the edge into sweet oblivion, shaking and moaning as he came.

Aiden didn’t pull away until it was over, his lips swollen, looking dazed but satisfied. Lambert dragged him into a kiss—Aiden tasted of him in a way that made his softening cock throb in response. He sighed.

The two of them fell asleep that way, still sweaty and sticky and tangled up in each other, under the light of the summer moon with magic swirling like fireflies in the air all around.

~~~~~~

Lambert couldn’t help but smile as the two of them rode out the next morning, hair still wet from bathing in the river, the day already scorching hot though the sun was still low in the sky. Every time he looked at Aiden and saw the glint of silver where his hand held the reins, his heart jumped in his chest.

They were bound, the two of them, for better or for worse, in life and in death. Four razor-sharp swords. Four golden eyes. Two silver rings. Two hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> I admit this one was much more saccharine than my usual fare, but I was feeling stupid romantic about these two.
> 
> If you liked it, please consider leaving me a comment!


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